Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
sighing
reading
thinking
restless
my mind twists and seethes
trapped
with mindless energy
about how the world
has changed
worrying
speculating
drifting
I wonder
what will come to be
roaming through memories
of hopes
history
half-remembered
dreams
darkness
spreads
across the nation
troubles
rise
around
the world
I struggle
to find the shadows
or how
we
once were
now I find
I’m frankly
a little
out of breath
I need to go somewhere
quiet
and give my brain
a rest
I was in the coffee shop on a writing mission, nursing a stiff neck. Falling asleep in a chair the other night, my head slipped out of position. I’ve been doing micro movements almost absent-mindedly to loosen it.
So, there I was, eyes closed, flexing my neck and head back and forth. A Steve Miller song, “Keep On Rockin’ Me, Baby”, floated out of the speakers. Without thinking about it, I was moving my head side to side in time with the music.
When I opened my eyes, a small pair of blue eyes were watching me—blonde hair, rosy cheeks, pink plastic boots. She began copying me. Eyebrows lifting, head tilting, she mirrored every little motion.
I grinned, and she laughed, and so did I. For a moment, it felt like we were performing a tiny, accidental duet—two strangers connected by rhythm, movement, and the music of another time.
In the garden of love and hope
things appear level
but this is a slippery slope
where loss hurts like the devil
words drive worrying stumbles,
and feelings force hurtful falls
sometimes no one answers
your quiet, urgent calls
you fall
you lie
you get up
you swear
never again
but you keep on going in there
to see
what you find
hoping love and answers
will find you there
in time
Floofeasance (floofinition) – Misconduct or wrongdoing by an animal, especially a housepet. Origins: 1763, Flance, from floofaire to do wrong, from floo (animal) + faire, from Floofin, facere, to make or do.
In Use: “Coming home often led to findings of floofeasance in the house, but Sugar and Charley’s adorable expressions always saved them from being disciplined.”
Thirstda, January 8, 2026. Eight days into a new year, and I remain reflecting about weather patterns and national and international politics.
Looking at the weather, the advisory which has been shadowing our hours for several days warned, snow is coming.
Snow didn’t quite come to Ashland. It dusted surrounding mountains and firs like confectionery sugar. Down on the valley, chilly wet ground is visible. Temperatures roam from 35 F to 46 F.
The last temp, 46, comes from Southern Oregon University’s observations, and has struck me as accurate. That range, 35 to 46, highlights the impact of mountains and valleys. We’re in a valley’s neck, and SOU’s observations take place in a field down closer to the valley floor. So we see, it’s colder in the mountains than at lower elevations, re-affirmation of long-known temperature dynamics.
Now they’re telling us that the weather is going to warm. Ten-day forecasts are serving up highs in the sixties. Like any season, we’ll wait for the end before it can be judged. So far, worries about having needed snow deposits to carry us through the summer keep nudging up.
Reflecting on national politics, concern is now going up about the latest shooting and Trump administration’s response to it. ICE agents in Minneapolis shoot and killed a woman. Following a standard script, Kristi Noem claimed the agents were defending themselves.
Early video evidence and civilian statements completely undermine Noem’s claims. Now the FBI has declared that nobody is allowed to see any collected evidence.
Until that point, a familiar pattern was being followed, with local, state, and FBI investigating together and cooperating. The FBI announcement, coming without warning and contrary to previous investigations, causes worry that transparency needed to reassure citizens of impartial and fair consideration of evidence has been jeopardized.
On the one hand, the FBI’s approach is an old tactic used by repressive governments in the past to cover up crimes and manipulate results. We the People have witnessed multiple times when that happened in the last twenty years. Think Walter Scott of South Carolina, George Floyd of Minneapolis, the Franklin Park ICE shooting, to name some prominent examples.
Cover-ups of law enforcement was a concern before 2026 began. The Minneapolis ICE killing only heightens the distrust many have of the Trump administration and ICE.
Watching the weather and studying the news pulled The Neurons into an unsurprising direction. Eating my breakfast found them filling the morning mental music stream with “Watching the Detectives” by Elvis Costello from 1977. What a sense of humor The Neurons sometimes reveal.
Well, I hope that 2026 finds a turning point soon and begins arcing toward the freedom, justice, and equality which most of us prefer. In the meantime, I’ll sip coffee, keep watching, and wish you all a rendezvous with peace and grace soon. Cheers
The markers of familiarity intrigue me. I like to walk and friends and strangers comment on seeing me walking around town. People often mention they know me by my hat and its flair. My flair reveals my interests in writing, coffee, beer, the Steelers, and being retired military and living in Oregon.
On my end, I know several dogs who come into the coffee shop by name but I don’t know their owners’s names. People socialize differently with animals. The baristas and other customers often talk to the dogs by name. But even when people talk to the owners, names are rarely used, a facet of behavior which intrigues me.
Things are changing, though. This week, I learned that sweet Lenny’s owner is a retired sociology professor. Happy and social Sugar’s people are Thomas and Alice. Bear — who lives up to his name with his size but is a friendly, relaxed pup — belongs to Norm and Sarah. In this way, gaps are closing, and we’re all becoming friendlier and more open.
Today, Jessica didn’t know my name or regular coffee order. She did remember my Co-op number and knew that I was Brenda on that account. She and I enjoyed a good laugh about it.
Little interactions like all of these help enliven the coffee shop writing life for me.
Michael Seidel, writer 